Wanting and having are two different things
by jemmy9
Summary: When you can't have what you want, what are you supposed to do? AU take on what Rory could have turned into when no strings are attached.
1. Chapter 1

You watch silently as the bottle blonde slides into the booth next him, immediately draping her arms over him. You want to scream. But that would be breaking the rules. This is what you agreed to. You return your attention to the guy next to you, you've already forgotten his name and have no intention of remembering it. He's droning on about something or other, his hand resting on your knee. You nod politely and knock back your fifth drink of the night. You never used to drink. It was only when he came along that you felt the need to start. He's whispering something in the bimbo's ear and it takes all your restraint not to jump across to table and slap one of them. He can do better. Not that you're any better these days. You've become exactly like one of the girls he's used to chasing. You're no longer special.

"Hey I'm just going to grab another drink, do you want anything?" You ask politely, not really waiting long enough to hear his answer before you make a run for the bar. You order a shot and a drink to take back to the table with you, nothing quite like dulling the pain. You know you're not supposed to be that girl. Your mother would be ashamed. But here you are, being one of the many, and doing exactly what he's always done. It's easier to forget about him when you're stumbling into the bed of someone else for the night. Never your bed. Only he's allowed there. You don't even wait till their asleep to leave, you don't see the point. They know they can't keep you.

"Scotch neat, and put the ladies on my tab." He stands next to you, close enough so that your arms are touching on the bar.

"Always the gentleman." You drink the shot and start on the vodka concoction the bartender has also given you. You've spent too much time with Finn and no longer care about what you order.

"How's the date going Ace?" He's prying. You know it's just a game to him. He just wants to prove that you'll be crawling back into his bed sooner or later. You won't lose though. Not tonight.

"Great." You force all the enthusiasm you can. "We're actually thinking of getting out of here though. Go somewhere quitter or something." He knows what you're implying. "How's Barbie?" He laughs at the name and takes a sip from his own drink.

"That's the thing about Barbie's Ace, they're all the same. Now usually people would think of that as a bad thing. But I prefer to think of it as comforting."

"Seriously?"

"Of course. This way I always know what I'll be getting." His smirk is sickening. You don't want to think about him and the Barbie.

"To each his own."

You search the floor for your discarded dress, having managed to already collect your underwear from various places around the room. You'll never understand how your clothing manages to get so scattered.

"You're taking off?" Questions the brunette from the bed, the sheet wrapped loosely around him.

"Yeah sorry, places to go and all that stuff." You finally see your dress hidden partially under the bed.

"Usually it's the guy that's supposed to make a run for, but even then they wait till their conquest is asleep." He chuckles, not realizing that his comment actually stings you. You've become what you hate.

"Well I like to be original. I'll see you around." You say quickly, pulling your dress on and heading for the door.

The campus is dead. You're not even sure what time it is, but it feels early. A few stragglers stumble past you, probably having been kicked out at last call at the pub. One or two people make their way passed you, taking their own walk of shame.

"Ace?" Oh shit. Every part of you tells you to keep going and to pretend you didn't hear him. But you know you'd look like an idiot if you did that. You stop and turn to face him. He looks the same as when you left him at the pub, whereas you look like a total mess. Shoes in hand, make-up smeared – not the picture of perfection.

"Hey Logan. What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He comes to a stop in front of you, slowly taking in your disheveled appearance. A hint of disappointment flashes across his face.

"Just heading home." You don't dare to meet his eyes. You know you shouldn't feel ashamed; you're just doing exactly what he does. But his stare makes you comfortable.

"All alone?" He winces as he asks, clearly wishing he hadn't asked.

"Now I am." You want him to know you've had your fun for the night. "What happened to Barbie?" Now you're the one asking questions you don't want to know the answer to.

"Don't know." He's being evasive which makes you even more uncomfortable.

"Well I should get going. I'll see you around Logan." You make a move to leave but he holds onto your arm.

"Why don't you come back to mine? It's closer. And I don't like the idea of you walking back to your dorm by yourself." You don't know why he's asking. You both know you've been in another man's bed tonight. You shake your arm loose from his grip, not wanting him to touch you when another man's hands have marked your skin.

"I should get home. I'm a mess. Definitely in need of a shower and sleep." He reaches for you again but you step back slightly, letting his arm drop.

"You can take a shower at mine, and I promise I'll let you sleep." He's pushing the subject, a first for him. Why does he want you so bad? Did Barbie turn him down? "Come on Ace." You search his face for any signs of dishonesty but are just met with pleading eyes.

"Okay."

The short walk back to his dorm is silent, neither of you knowing what to say. You're doing your best to pick apart his motives but are coming up blank. He's never been so insistent before. He lets you into his dorm and you head straight for his room.

The door is barely closed before he has you pushed up against it, his lips on yours. It takes you a moment to register what is happening. You want to push him away, create some distance. He feels too close. But you don't want to let him go. You give in and wrap your arms around him, deepening the kiss. It isn't until your legs hit the bed that you remember where you were before. You push him away; it takes more strength than you thought possible. He leans in for another kiss and you move to position yourself closer to the door. A getaway plan.

"I believe you promised me a shower." He laughs, thinking you're joking and takes a step towards you. You step back. He gets it now.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just want a shower."

"Ace?" He takes another step, forcing you back again.

"Look just let me have a shower, and then we can have sex." He's taken aback by your bluntness, and if you admit it to yourself, so are you.

"This has nothing to do with having sex, I want to know what's wrong. This isn't like you." You laugh out loud. He's spot on. But you can't remember when you were like you.

"Not like me? I want to have shower, explain how that's not like me." Your yelling with anger that has long been waiting to surface.

"Finding you stumbling home at 4 in the morning after falling into bed with a random isn't like you. You're better than that."

"I'm better than nothing! You do exactly the same thing and no one criticizes or comments. Why is it so wrong for me to go have sex with someone? In case you haven't noticed I've been fucking you for the last 2 months." He cringes at your language, but it also brings out his anger.

"We aren't like that and you know it."

"I don't know anything. You climb into any bed you can find."

"So what? This is your sick version of payback?"

"This has nothing to do with payback. I did this. I got it into my stupid head that this is what I wanted. That I could be this girl and not care. That it had to make some sense if you thought it was such a great idea, and that the thought of being with just me was so horrifying." He softens at your confession. You wish he would just stay mad, it's easier that way. You have to stay mad. "The only reason you're pissed off is because I'm turning into you. I'm not a prize if I'm the same. If I'm just like every other girl."

"NO!" Bingo. You understand now. He wanted you because you were different. The girl he didn't think he'd get but did. You aren't special if you're just like all the others. If you're the same, then he's the same. He won't look at you. You wonder if he's realizing everything you've just realized.

"You look at me, and you don't like what you see. But this is the price Logan." He turns away from you completely. "This is your chance. Tell me you want me. Tell the reason your so mad is because you don't want to see me with anyone else. That you can't stand the thought."

You wait.

But nothing comes. He can't be that guy. He told you that. You knew that.

"I can't be one of the many." You say sadly.

"Goodbye Logan."


	2. Chapter 2

You haven't seen him in weeks. Not since you left his dorm. You're not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. You've heard whispers that he isn't dating anyone at the moment. The line has stopped moving altogether, pissing off all those waiting for their chance with the famous Huntzburger.

If you're being truthful with yourself, which you so rarely are these days, you're glad he isn't seeing anyone. It's as if that proves you did mean more to him than just being another girl to pass through his bed. At least that's what you want to believe.

You, on the other hand, haven't exactly returned to your pre-Logan ways. Everything's just gotten worse. You can't help it. You'll do anything not to think about how empty you feel. If that means going out every night, never staying in a bed long enough to be warm, then that's what you're going to do. You can't let yourself sit still long enough for your thoughts to overtake you. You don't want to be reminded of how everything has fallen apart.

Tonight is no different. The pub is packed and you're huddled in the corner with your latest 'friend'. You can feel his hand resting on your leg through the thin material of your dress. You really wish he wouldn't touch you. But it's not like you can say that. It would defeat the whole point. But this feels too intimate. You pull him to his feet.

"Let's dance." He simply smiles and follows you to the floor. He's not a big talker. You wish he was. Talk distracts.

You know all eyes are on you when you hit the dance floor and start to slowly move against your date. Once upon a time the thought of everyone watching you would have terrified you. But now you don't care. You let them look. It's not like they can see what's really there.

The music is slow, and you have had that much to drink that the bass vibrates through your entire body. It feels nice. It feels good just to feel anything.

But he's here.

You see him at the bar with Colin and Finn, laughing and joking around. Like nothing has happened. There's a blonde at his side, what a surprise. You knew it would only be a matter of time, but you didn't expect it to feel like this. It's like you can't breathe. Rather than bothering to be polite, you push your date away and leave him alone in the middle of the dance floor, not caring what happens to him.

He's not meant to move on. Leaving was supposed to wake him up. Make him realize what the two of you had. But he's still Logan. The cold air outside hits you sharply as you stumble out of the fire exit. It's not helping. You still can't breathe. You can't be here. He can't be here. Before you realize what you're doing you're hunched over and throwing up on the pavement beneath your feet, narrowly missing your shoes.

You move down the wall slightly and let yourself collapse on the ground. You know you shouldn't be freaking out. You feel pathetic. You can't let him win. You wait a few minutes to compose yourself and to ensure that there's no vomit anywhere on you before making your way back into the pub. You see him as soon as you walk in. They're at the bar, whispering, giggling. He's stroking her hair and all you can think about is how he used to do that to you. You scream at yourself to toughen up. You're better than this.

You make your way to the bar, keep a bit of distance between you and_ them,_ and order a drink to wash away the disgusting taste in your mouth. From where you are you can hear them talking. He's telling her how beautiful she is. You can't help but wonder if he even means it. You down your drink as quickly as possible and scan the pub for an appropriate distraction.

Perfect.

He's drunk. He's always drunk. You stop him before he joins the others after returning from the bathroom.

"Hey Finn." He doesn't register surprise at your presence, he merely embraces you like you're old friends.

"Love as I live and breathe. You look fantastic."

"Always the charmer. How've you been? It feels like ages." You're bright and bubbly on the surface.

"You know me, life of the party, drunk with a smile on my face. It has been awhile though. Good to see you've moved on from my dimwitted mate. When are you going to give me a shot?" He jokes. Always the flirt.

"How about right now?" You reply slyly. He looks surprised, but you hold onto his arm and pull him towards the dance floor. You pull out everything you've got and dance as provocatively as possible. You want to send a message. And you know this one will work.

You can see Logan and the others staring over at you. He looks like he's going to kill someone. Good.

"What do you say we get out of here?" Finn looks down at you, trying his best to read your face. He must see something there because he grabs onto your arm and takes you over to where the others are.

"We're heading off mates. I'll see ya tomorrow." Neither of you wait for a response before heading out of the pub.

He tastes like gin and cigarettes. Nothing like Logan. His hands grab furiously at your jacket, throwing it violently to the floor. He doesn't treat you like a princess. Like some porcelain doll that can break at any moment. You like that. You don't want to be the princess anymore. Your back is pressed hard against his door and he barely lets you come up for air between kisses. It feels passionate and rehearsed all at the same time. Exactly how you expected Finn to be. He doesn't pretend he's anything else. That's why you picked him. You knew he would understand.

You pull at his shirt, tearing off the buttons as you do so. He can afford another one. You rip at the rest of each others clothing before finally getting to the bed. There will be marks on his back in the morning. You know you'll have your share of marks too. What's one more?

The morning comes too soon and you're awoken by the sound of Finn's voice in the other room.

"Of course I slept with her. Did you see her last night?" You can tell he's talking on the phone. You pull on his discarded and ripped shirt from the night before and walk quietly over to the door.

"They aren't together Colin!" Of course Colin. Always the worrier.

"Look, he's the one that fucked up. He let her go when we all knew he shouldn't have. She wanted company, I gave her company. She is our friend too." You've never heard Finn angry before. You only just start to realize what the full consequences can be of sleeping with him. You didn't think about his relationship with Logan and Colin. You didn't even consider how it would affect him. But why should? He came willingly.

"If he's pissed that's too bad. He'll just have to front up to the reasons why he's pissed then. I'll talk to you later ok." You wait a few moments before heading out into the common room. Finn is sitting at the breakfast bar drinking what looks to be coffee.

"And here I thought you didn't rise before the sun." There's no hint of anger when he looks over at you. He just laughs.

"Usually I don't, but it was hard to sleep with you laying there looking all tempting and what not." He slips so easily back into his flirtatious manner. You take a seat across from him at the bar, feeling slightly guilty for forcing him from his bed, whatever the reason.

"Sorry."

"No need for apologies." Normally this moment would feel awkward. The morning after. But not with Finn. You both know the score. You've got the feeling he wants to bring up Logan, but is scared to do so. You hope he goes with his gut and decides not too.

"He's probably going to come find you at some point today." No such luck. You get up and go back to Finn's room, grabbing all of your clothes and putting them on as fast as possible.

"I should get going." You say, returning to the common room. "Sorry about your shirt." He laughs loudly.

"Don't worry about it. It'll be a nice reminder."

"Yeah." Just what you need, more reminders. You give him a quick kiss on the cheek and virtually run for the door.

"I'll see you around Finn." You shout back.

You don't lose it until you get back to your dorm. You feel sick to your core, and it has nothing to do with alcohol. You never understood what it was like to hate yourself until now. You sit on the floor of the shower, letting the hot water wash away everything. It's not hot enough. It's never hot enough. Nothing can wipe away what you've done. What you've become. And that's all you want. A clean slate. To pretend like none of it ever happened.

You don't even know how long you sit in the shower for, but by the angry looks on the faces of those waiting you figure it's been awhile. It's not as if it helped though. You don't know what could possibly help.

But it gets worse. It has to get worse.

He's standing at your door when you get there, anger radiating off him. He sees you straight away. You want to run and hide. But what would be the point?

"Logan." You say dismissively as you approach your door.

"Did you have fun last night?" You can tell this is just the beginning. His voice is laced with disgust, and hint of hurt.

"I did."

"What the hell are you doing Rory?" He yells. Several people stop at look at the two of you. Just what you need, an audience.

"I'm attempting to get into my dorm, but at the moment you're making it a little difficult." You know joking around is just going to piss him off even more. But what have you got to lose. It's his turn to feel hurt.

"So you sleeping with Finn has nothing to do with me not wanting to be with you?" You don't hear the word 'slut' come out of his mouth, but it may as well have.

"Me sleeping with Finn has to do with me sleeping with Finn. Nothing else. I don't see how this is any of your business anyway." You attempt to get passed him but he blocks your way, getting as close to you as possible.

"You could have picked anyone Rory. But you went for Finn. That isn't a random choice." His voice is quitter now. Softer.

"I don't see why you're getting so upset Logan. It's just sex. Remember?" The message was sent. He got it. But here you are, not saying what you want to say. You just push it further. You're not sure if you even know how to just let yourself be happy anymore. How to stop playing games.

"It's not just sex. Not with you." He looks through you. So sure that he knows you. So sure about who you are. He has no idea.

"I'm just another girl Logan. Just like all the others." This time your voice reflects your sadness. You can't keep it out anymore. He looks at you once more and stands back.

"Yeah, I guess you are." He disappears down the hallway, not looking back.


	3. Chapter 3

Another work day, another post. Nothing like wasting precious work hours writing fanfiction.

Thanks for all the lovely reviews from everyone.

It's been months. 2 months, 3 weeks and 6 days. You're back to normal now. Or at least you look that way to anyone watching. You haven't spoken to Logan since that day outside your dorm. Finn stops by every now and then, his attempt to make sure your okay. Apparently things are okay between him and Logan now, which you're glad about. That wasn't something you wanted hanging on your conscience, there are enough things hanging on that as it is.

You don't really see anyone anymore. Paris has Doyle. Your mum has Luke. So your just keep to yourself, focus all your attention on school, which you are doing exceptionally well at. That's one positive. But summer is fast approaching, and you're moderately terrified about having that much free time on your hands. You don't need anymore time to dwell, you do that enough already. There's the option of going home and staying with your mum but you really don't want to sit around and watch her be happy with Luke. You're happy for her, you are. But just the thought of being around happy couples at the moment is sickening.

You've been buried in the library for way too long, time for coffee to restore what is left of your sanity. The campus is quiet, everyone hidden away studying for finals. While waiting for your large coffee two girls join the line behind you.

"Oh my god! I couldn't believe it when Gabby told me. I mean, seriously?" Oh yay, gossip. You do your best to block it out, not caring what the brain dead girls behind are talking about.

"I know that's what I said. I think hell must have frozen over. Who would have thought any of us would see the day Logan Huntzburger would commit to someone?" That gets your attention.

"I just can't believe it. I heard ages ago he was getting serious about some other girl, but nothing seemed to come of that. And now Amanda Fallon has snagged herself the wall. I wouldn't be surprised if their families were already planning the wedding."

"Another pointless society function to attend." You take your coffee and make your way back to the dorm. Logan committed. It doesn't compute. How could he have ended up with some society bimbo? He's better than that. He's supposed to be with someone who challenges him. Someone who can make him laugh. Someone he can debate with. He supposed to be with… You cut off your thinking before you can sink even further into your confused daze. It isn't until that moment that you actually realize where you are. Somehow you've arrived at Finn's door. You knock before you can come to your sense and hope he's awake. He barely has time to open the door before you walk in.

"Is it true?" He closes the door softly and approaches you carefully, like you're going to break. Why does everyone look at you like that? His eyes are sad. He doesn't even need to answer.

"I was going to tell you love. I didn't want you to hear it from a random." His apologetic tone makes you want to break something. If you were in your own room you're sure you would have.

"Yeah well I did hear it from randoms. Who is she Finn? When the hell did this happen?" Your resolve is breaking. You're breaking.

"They met at some society thing we went to. They hit it off. She said from the beginning though that she wouldn't be one of his harem and that if he wanted her then it would have to be just her. He said yes." Oh god. So it wasn't about him. He could have committed that whole time. He just didn't want to commit to you. The room is spinning. You've felt broken before, but nothing like this. Nothing like knowing the person you love, doesn't love you, and didn't.

"Are you okay?" You can barely hear Finn's voice as you bolt from the room. The campus is a haze as you rush back to your dorm. You need to do something. Anything. It wasn't meant to be like this. You got better. But for what?

It doesn't take long for you to make your way to the pub. Old habits die hard. You have to do something to drown out the ache. You're chest feels like it's going to explode. But the alcohol isn't dulling it like it used to. Why isn't it working? It's not enough.

The guy sitting next to you at the bar has been staring at you since you walked in. He'll do.

"Do you want to dance?" He doesn't answer. He just pulls you to your feet and leads you to the dance floor. He's supposed to distract you, but he doesn't. He's just another guy. You need more to drink.

"I'm just going to grab another drink, do you want anything?" You pull away from him and take a step towards the bar, but he grabs hold of your arm and pulls you back.

"Let me. What do you want?" His voice is smooth.

"Surprise me." With your comment he leaves and you let yourself sink into the nearest booth. Even though your mind is screaming that you haven't had enough, your body is yelling that you have. You know you're not the strongest drinker, you never have been. And tonight you're pushing it. But you just can't seem to care. What difference does it make?

A little while later a drink is placed in front of you, and you look up to see that your "friend" for the night has returned, a smirk on his face. You wish people wouldn't smirk around you. That's an expression reserved for him. No one ever seems to carry it off the way he did. Cheap imitations.

"Thanks." The drink is gone in a matter of seconds and you're already back on the dance floor.

You can feel it now. That numb buzz that you get when you've had too much. Everything is blurry. Warm and lovely. You're swaying out of time to the music, but what does it matter. You get the feeling you're swaying a lot more than you realize as the ground gets closer.

But he catches you.

It's dark and cold, not like you remember it last being. Everything is out of focus. You can't figure out where you are. You're head hurts. But it doesn't feel like a hangover over. Everything is still spinning and blurry so you know you must still be drunk. Your eyes slowly start to readjust to the darkness around you. You're outside. On the ground. Grass is matted in your hair and down the side of your face. Reaching to brush it off, you notice it. Your shirt is ripped. So is your skirt.

Stumbling to your feet, which are now minus the shoes you think you were wearing earlier in the night, you make your way down the pathway next to you. It isn't long before you reach a building, you're still on campus. In the light you can see everything better. You're filthy. You're legs and arms are covered in dirt and scratches, and what look to be like bruises. You remember you're head and reach back to where it hurts. Putting your hand back under the light, it's red. Normally you would scream at such a sight, but you can still barely register what is happening.

You're trying your best to get your bearings. To at least figure out where you are. Staring at the building in front you, its familiarity hits you. You need help. The panic is setting in and if you could remember how to get home you wouldn't consider asking. But you don't know what else to do.

The walk to his door is long, as you do you're best not fall down, or pass out. Everything hurts and you're mind is starting to let in the truth of what it thinks happened. You need to stay in denial longer. Forever even.

You don't know what time it is when you finally reach his door and knock. It wasn't supposed to be like this. None of this was supposed to happen.

You wait, and wait, but nothing. He can't save you. You slide down to the floor, not having the strength to stand anymore. How did you get here? How did you become this? If someone had told you a year ago that you would turn into this mess of a girl you would have laughed at them. You were always on track. Always knew what you were doing and where you were going.

Everyone needs to fall sometime.

Your head suddenly hits the floor behind you as his door sings open quickly.

"Rory?" You can't really blame him for being completely baffled at your presence on the floor in front of his dorm. All you can focus on is how much your head hurts and the fact that he's standing over you.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know where else to go." You attempt to get up, but only end up screaming in pain. It hurts so much that it's making you dizzy.

"What the hell happened to you?" He questions, helping you to your feet and bringing you inside. You want to tell him. Tell him exactly what you think happened. But the thought of saying it, admitting it, it's more than you can take.

"I don't know." He sits you down on the lounge and disappears off into his room, returning seconds later with a t-shirt and some sweats.

"You can change into these okay." He hands them to you and then turns away to give you privacy. He's being so caring. Even after everything. It feels like a hallucination. You cringe as you try and remove your shirt. "Are you ok?" His voice is laced with concern, more than you deserve. You got yourself into this situation.

"Yeah. It's just hard." You're losing your resolve, and you can feel the tears tickling your eyes, just waiting to fall.

"Do you need help?" Such a simple question. If only he knew just how much help you need.

"It's ok. You don't have to." He turns and crouches down in front of you anyway. You watch him closely as he carefully helps you out of your ruined shirt. His eyes glance over your body, taking in the marks that are now scattered across it. But he doesn't say anything. What is there to say? He pulls on the shirt he brought you and moves onto your skirt. Pulling on the sweats, he waits till you're covered before removing your skirt. He's not looking at you like you are glass. This is the first time you think that he should be. You're only just holding it together.

"Come with me." You don't question him, you just go with him when he helps you up and takes you to the bathroom. He sits you down on the edge of the bath and gets a washcloth from the sink. He cautiously starts to clean the dirt off your face, trying his best to be gentle. He cleans your arms too and then kneels down in front of you.

"Please talk to me." You can't look at him. You'll lose it if you do. "Rory." He tilts your chin to face him. "Ace. Please." And you break. The tears start before you can even register what he's said. You collapse into his arms, something you've wanted to do for so long now. If feels right. Like he will protect you. Protect you from you.

He carries you into his room and lays you down on his bed. And that's where you stay, hunched over and crying, him by your side, not letting go.


	4. Chapter 4

Another work day, another post. This ones pretty short unfortunately, work was actually busy today, sigh. Thanks for all your amazing reviews.

-

It's late when you finally wake up. You can see the sun begging to enter through the closed blinds of his window. It takes you a few moments to absorb all the events of the night before. When they finally hit you it takes all your energy to not start crying again. You'd cried for what seemed like hours until eventually falling into a restless sleep, one bombarded with images and memories you want to forget. He stayed. He didn't move once. He just held you close and let you breakdown over and over again.

You're curled up in his arms and it feels more intimate than almost anything else you've experienced. His breathing is slow as he sleeps, looking so peaceful. It feels like a dream. Like everything is the way it was supposed to be. But you know that's not the case. Far from it. His heart is with someone else now. You don't belong here anymore.

You untangle yourself from his arms, trying your best not to wake him. Your body aches as you creep quietly from his room. Grabbing your tattered clothes from the lounge you take one last look around before heading for the door.

"You can't just leave." So close. You turn around to seem him standing at his bedroom door, staring at you intently. Why couldn't it have just been easy?

"I should go. Thank you for everything Logan. I'll give your clothes back to you as soon as possible." You make your move to escape but he comes closer.

"Rory don't runaway." You wish you could run. Everything would be ok if you could run.

"I'm not running. I just have to go." He reaches the door and removes your hand from the knob, holding it in his.

"You're running." His voice is soft, attempting not to scare you away.

"There's really no need for me to stay Logan."

"You need to talk to me. You need to talk about what happened." You pull your hand away from his. He's making it very hard to remain in denial. To pretend that the world is okay.

"Nothing happened, so there's nothing to talk about." You can see his anger rising. He's only trying to help and yet you're making it so difficult. But he doesn't need to be involved. You can handle it on your own. You can handle it.

"You can't pretend forever Rory."

"Yes I can!" You scream. Why can't he let you pretend? Why can't he just leave it be? "Just let me go." He holds onto your arms tightly as you attempt to push him away. Kicking and screaming is the only thing you can think to do. Collapsing in a heap on the floor, you continue to push him away. Leaving him to just stand there and watch you fall apart.

You've never cried this much before. You've never been a big crier. But now you can't seem to stop. The events of the last few months are weighing heavy on you, crushing you. Until all you're left with are tears that burn your cheeks as they fall. And then they just won't stop falling. You can't make them stop.

He sits down opposite you on the floor, just watching you. Waiting for you to breathe again. What you wouldn't give to breathe again. It feels like a long time since you've done it.

After a few minutes you start to calm down. The tears subside and you're no long a blubbering mess on the surface, it retreats to the inside. His eyes are full of compassion you've never seen before from anyone but your mother. It's hard not to believe that he really does want to help you. Maybe he can.

You're ready.

"Logan are you home?" the door swings open revealing a smiling blonde girl. Logan stands up immediately to greet her, forgetting your presence on his floor.

"Hey." He hugs her and all you can do is watch. If you weren't sober before you certainly are now. You quickly get to you feet, making sure to grab your clothes.

"Why were you sitting on the floor?" She laughs. She has the perfect laugh, if that's even possible. She's probably perfect in every other way too. Why else would he choose her?

"Long story."

"Whose this?" She questions, looking over his shoulder at you, her eyes giving you a once over. Her initial glare disappears in place of smugness, you're not completion for her.

"This is Rory, a friend." He states finally turning back to you. His eyes don't quite meet yours, guilt? The blonde, who you are assuming is Amanda Fallon, Logan's new girlfriend, steps passed him and offers her hand to you.

"Nice to meet you Rory." You respond automatically. But before your hand reaches hers to shake it politely she grabs hold of your wrist, pulling you forward slightly.

"Jesus what happened to you?" She asks loudly, inspecting the marks on your arm. Logan doesn't even have the chance to say anything before you're out of the room, mumbling 'I have to go' as you run.

You don't stop running till you reach your room, slamming the door behind you, not caring about Paris. With any luck she won't be home. Crawling into your bed provides you with the tinniest amount of comfort. Having closed the blinds, you room is incredibly dark, giving you some solitude. It feels safe here. But not as safe as you felt in Logan's arms. But that was just as make believe as everything else. A fairytale. Minus the happy ending.

You just want to sleep. You know you won't be able to escape it forever. You understand that. But just a little while longer. You'll have no choice but to face it soon. But until it feels real, you'll keep pretending. Pretend nothing happened. Pretend that you're okay. Just pretend.


	5. Chapter 5

I've been watching way too much Skins of late, so apologies if the depressing angst continues on too long. If you don't watch Skins already I highly recommend it. Angsty depressing goodness. I'm addicted to all things like it.

Thanks for all your lovely reviews. Another boring day, so it must be time for another post. I'll do my best to keep you all entertained. I was lacking inspiration this week, so I started reading fanfictions from several years ago, hoping to be inspired. Quite amusing. Not so inspiring. Read one about Rory being a stripper, interesting. Then I went back to reading about skins, couldn't lose my angst.

I'm sooo sorry it took me so long. Please forgive me.

-

There are moments when you're not quite awake when everything feels lovely. Your mind hasn't fully awoken to remind you of whatever problem is killing you this week. There's a warm feeling that comes with being half asleep, surrounded by comforting blankets and pillows, untouched by the world for the smallest of moments. Bit it never last. Eventually consciousness seeps in, and you're forced to face the day you wanted so badly to stay hidden from.

The shrill sound of your phone ringing pulls you violently from your sleep. Reaching an arm out of the comfort of your blanket, you feel around your bed side table until you find the offending object.

"Hello?" You question groggily.

"So you are still alive. And here I thought you'd disappeared off the face of the earth." You sit up as soon as your mother's voice comes through the phone, not prepared to speak with her.

"Of course I haven't disappeared." You're faking a smile, hoping she'll by it. Happiness that doesn't even go skin deep.

"Well you've been MIA for quite awhile now, a mother worries that her bookworm of a daughter might have been swallowed by the big bad books."

"I'm fine mum. I've just been really busy with finals and everything." Not exactly a lie, but there are some things you just can't tell her. It would kill her.

"Too busy for mother daughter time, that's blasphemy. When are your finals done?"

"2 weeks and them I'm done."

"2 weeks?! I guess I will just have to survive until then. But you're going to owe me one hell of a movie night once you're done with your college stuff."

"I'll pencil you in. I've gotta get going mum but I'll talk to you soon okay."

"I don't believe you, but I'm going to choose to pretend I do. Don't study so hard your brain falls out."

"I won't. Bye." You hang up before she can respond and throw your phone across the room. It feels wrong lying to her. She should know what's going on. But you can't.

Pulling yourself to your feet, you quickly realise that its night time and you aren't even sure what day it is. You don't want to know. How long could you have really slept? The dorm is deathly silent when you make your way into the common room. You catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall telling you its 1am. Normally you'd be stumbling back from the pub or a conquests place. Certainly not something you plan on doing. Although really, could it get much worse?

You almost slap yourself for considering it. You're being ridiculous. If you were game enough to wake Paris up you'd ask her to slap you. Although you figure she'd do that for waking her up in the first place. You know where you have to go.

It doesn't take long to get there. You're still in his clothes as you tap quickly on the door, attempting not to lose your nerve.

"Hey." His voice is soft and welcoming as he lets you inside, directing you to his room. It seems like all your significant moments happen here. Away from prying eyes. He closes the door and takes a seat on the edge of his bed, watching as you pace back and forth, building up the strength to speak. He doesn't rush you. He waits. Like you've waited so many times before. Breathe.

"I don't remember what happened. I remember the guy. I was at the pub, drinking, a lot. We danced. He bought me a drink. We danced some more. After that everything gets blurry and confusing and all I can remember is pain. And being cold." You're trying your best to stay strong, you've done enough crying. But isn't this the kind of thing you're supposed to cry about? "The ground was wet. It was like I knew what was happening, but I didn't. How can you say no when you don't even know what's happening? It's all just an act. Going through the motions each night. Not feeling anything. God I'm not even making sense am I? But it happened. And I can't take it back. God there are so many things I wish I could take back." You finally stop and look at him, sitting patiently and understandingly on the bed. There are tears in your eyes now. Can't hide anymore. It's all really happening. And you can't take it back.

He approaches you slowly, while you stand there in a daze, afraid to move or breathe. It's all hitting you like a tonne of bricks, dragging the every last breath from your body. You won't let yourself fall to pieces again. He's watched you breakdown enough times. But you're allowed to be sad. You've been lost for awhile now, it's about time you started to see the light again, time you stopped letting yourself drown.

"It's going to be okay." He states, standing as close to you as he can without touching you.

"How can you possibly know that?" He smirks in response. That damn smirk. It's as if he really does know things are going to be okay. Like he's hiding some wonderful secret about all future happiness. It wouldn't surprise you if he was.

"I just know. So trust me, okay?" He's asking for so much more than either of you realise. Trust. You don't trust anyone but Lorelai. And how can you trust him after everything that's happened. It's been nothing short of a mess. But you want to trust him. Everything inside you is screaming to trust him. To let him in.

"Okay." It slips from your lips so quietly you barely hear. But he smiles. He knows.

-

You heard not too long after that Logan quietly broke up with Amanda Fallon. You did everything in your power to make life return to normal. Once finals were finished you stayed on campus, avoiding going home to see your mother, and let her see right through you. She was so mad, but you just couldn't. She blamed Logan. Claiming he'd changed you. She had no idea.

He took care of you. Made sure you were okay. He was a friend. That's all you could handle at the moment. So you went out. Hung out with his friends. Did everything you could to move on.

Somehow you ended up at the pub. It was inevitable. You couldn't avoid it. Even with Logan by your side the place made you sick. Holding memories you were in no rush to keep. But you're there, nestled in one of the back booths with Logan and all his friends, listening to them argue about Finn's latest escapade. You're sipping on a coke, rather than drinking.

It's out of the corner of your eye that you see him. Standing unassumingly at the bar talking to some girl. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you want to believe you're seeing things. That this is just another nightmare.

"You okay Ace?" Logan's voice feels a million miles away, barely registering with you. All you can see is him. So unaffected. Like he doesn't even realise how he's ruined your life.

"Rory?" A hint of panic seeps into Logan's voice, but you still don't face him. If you look away he might disappear. Then he could be anywhere. Haunting you. You're on your feet before you know what you're doing, Logan hot on your heels. You're standing in front of him in a matter of seconds, pushing his current conquest out of the way.

"Hey don't I know you?" He drunkenly slurs. You slap him with all the energy in your body. But you can't stop you're hand, it just goes back for more, until you're swinging so violently at him that Logan has to restrain you.

"Ace what the hell are you doing?" You're screaming incoherently, leaving everyone around you confused, and questioning you're sanity. "Ace." Logan puts his hands on either side of your face, focusing your attention on him. "What is going on?"

"It's him." It happens so fast you're not even sure of what's happening. But he's on the ground holding onto his face and Logan is kicking him. Finn and Colin quickly appear, taking hold of Logan and pulling him back. He just lays there. No idea. No clue of what he's done. You crouch down to be at his level, Logan is screaming at you to leave. Examining his face, you're bombarded with images you hadn't been able to place. Memories from that night.

"You're nothing to me." He looks up at you confused, squinting through the blood dripping down his face. Slowly, his face changes. He realises. So many emotions flash across his face. Fear. Worry. Guilt. He goes to say something but you cut in. "Don't bother." You stand back up and walk over to where the boys are flanking a now calm Logan. His face is edged with concern. But you smile at him. There's nothing else you can do but smile. It's real. And it's the first real thing you've felt in months.

You're lips meet his before he has the chance to ask if your okay, like you know he was dying to do. He doesn't respond at first, but his arms quickly wrap around you, holding you like he never wants to let go. You hope he won't. Nothing has ever felt so right to you.

He pulls away, enough to look down at you, a genuine smile gracing his features. He understands. You don't have to tell him why you're suddenly okay. You don't have to explain. He just gets it. And he knows it's real.


End file.
